Meadows and Fog
by Cassandra Connelly
Summary: Misthallery. A place where legends, secrets, music and disgraced heirs are all connected. How exactly? Perhaps the esteemed archeology professor, Hershel Layton, and his assistant might find out in time...
1. Prologue: Predictions and Promises

Hello to all! Before we begin a few disclaimers (aside that I don't own either the setting, the characters, etc).

While it could be argued that this will be a "retelling" of Last Specter (aka Spectre's Call for us in the old continent), it is not quite the same story. As much as I love and adore the whimsical-yet entirely plausible- way the game ended, that ending will not be this story's. It will start loyal to the game, but it will go on a tangent of its own. It might hit some plot points, but otherwise those uninitiated to the game should not be spoiled severely. Call it an "Alternative Universe", if you will. The kind of universe in which the supernatural elements are real and some other things (such as characterizations) are added or adjusted. All the characters from Last Specter (or as many as I can juggle) will be here, as well as the locations. For the comfort of the general audience, I'll use the names and terminology used in the United States localization. That is all.

**-oooooooo-**

**Prologue- Predictions and Promises**

"Luke? What's the matter? Aren't you hungry?" Clark Triton rapped the bedroom door and waited for any sign of life from his son.

"**…**I'm fine, father." A weak and unsurprisingly despondent voice came from the inside.

Clark knew that his son, though not strictly lying, was not quite telling the whole truth. Luke had always been an earnest boy, but now**…** it was hard to tell. While he had been as clear to read as a morning newspaper before, now he was nothing but few and cryptic words that were nothing short of inscrutable. So much in fact, that Clark was no longer sure whether what Luke said was the entire truth or some sort of riddle.

"You haven't stepped out of the house in months. Now, you are going to shut yourself further inside, in your room?" Clark insisted.

"**…**"The boy didn't answer.

Luke's slow yet certain withdrawal had not gone unnoticed. Clark's duties as the mayor, the happenings at the village, what happened to his wife and now Luke's apathy**…** there was too much going on to keep up, even for his bright mind. But even then, Luke had no idea. It wouldn't be fair to blame the boy. Surely he also had a lot on his mind, too.

"Son?" Clark pressed his ear against the door, but he couldn't hear a thing. "Luke please, say something! Anything!"

A sigh. Then silence.

But before the father could give up and leave, Luke's voice drifted from the other side of the door.

"**…**'_The specter will destroy all in its path, creating its own paradise._'" Luke recited. "Tonight. East district."

Clark groaned and rested his head on the door. Another prediction. The father knew not, if the knowledge of when and where the specter would appear was slowly driving Luke insane of if he needed to avoid as much human contact as was possible to make the predictions. It was true that Luke's predictions became more sophisticated and precise with each attack and the more he kept to himself**…**

"Master Luke will not be coming for supper?" An old man with glasses, the butler of the house, asked as he approached the father.

"No**…**please make sure that you bring him his food later, Doland."

Making no mention of the prediction his son just told him, the man of the house turned to leave for the dining room.

"He said 'East District', am I right?" Doland asked to his master's back.

"**…**" Clark stopped on his tracks, but didn't turn around. "**…**I'll do it. You see that he eats something."

Without waiting for a reply, Clark Triton walked away.


	2. Chapter 1: The Typed Letter

**Chapter 1- The typed letter**

_"Hershel my dear friend, I must_

_earnestly seek your help again. Our_

_little town is in the most extraordinary_

_predicament. At night, a mysterious giant_

_shrouded in fog has been laying waste to_

_our homes. I am convinced you can help_

_stop this madness. Please come soon!_

_-Regards, Clark. "_

Emmy finished reading the letter out loud. "This sounds a bit..uh-"

"Clark and I are old friends," Hershel Layton reassured her. "He would have no reason to fabricate any stories."

"So, we are headed to Misthallery?" Emmy asked as she read the envelope's return address. "Hm**…** that rings a bell."

"Six months ago, an archeological discovery was made there. There was an article about it on the Times."

"Oh that's right! The 'Golden Garden', was it?"

"Not quite the Garden itself but rather evidence of the its existence nearby, yes."

"Well, as the assistant of the great Professor Layton it is my duty to aid you in any way possible!"

The professor frowned slightly as he saw the idyllic countryside fly by. He would have insisted once again that he would not take a lady into great danger, but he knew that it was useless. Emmy was coming, whether he liked it or not.

Still, a part of him was glad that he had company for this case. He simply knew that he needed the help of the lass, as much as it pained him to recognize it.

Before long they were at the entrance of Misthallery.

Renown for its year-long fog and pure water, Misthallery was certainly the "Aquamarine of the West Midlands", as some poets had called it. It was also the only place on Earth that seemed to have never known droughts and never will. Moss grew everywhere: on the streets, the roofs and even between the cracks of the stone paved road. Green woods embraced the city from all sides, the way a mother holds her child close to lull them into sleep. The eponymous mist covered the town of water like a blanket. Uphill, a strange and ominous building stood alone, overlooking the village.

"Is it always this foggy?" Emmy asked as she took a long look at the town. "It feels a bit**…** eerie."

"Misthallery is always foggy." Layton answered with a small smile "It is said that the timeless beauty of the town and its mist make it look like something straight out of a fairytale."

"Not any fairytale I've heard of**…**" the young woman commented uneasily.

Layton wondered briefly about the exact stories that his assistant was told as she was tucked to bed by her mother or father. He knew that she was mixed parentage, but even the three-hour drive from London to Misthalley was not enough to get properly acquainted. Strange thing, relying someone that you barely even know**…** yet for some reason, his intuition assured him that the lady was deserving of his trust.

They made their way into the city. A lad with blond hair was loitering about, but as soon as he saw them he waked up to the duo.

"You new in town, gramps?" the boy asked with coarseness.

"Yes," Layton replied before Emmy could reprimand the boy for his lack of delicacy. "Do you know where the Triton residence is, young man?"

It turned out that he did. While prying the straight answer from him was a bit hard (he insisted on them solving some puzzle first before answering), his directions were clear. "Across the bridge, left at the crossroads."

"I lived up in North Ely, but we had to evacuate." The boy, Charlie, commented off-handedly. As if he was talking about how white the fog in the city was.

"What**…**"the professor grew stern. "Why did you have to evacuate?"

"The oracle said that it was dangerous, so we left." Charlie grinned cheekily at them.

"Who**…**"Emmy rose her eyebrow, "**…**or what is this oracle?"

"I don't know, but mum told me that the oracle has saved people because of the predictions."

Then, because apparently the lad deemed that there was no more to talk about, he turned and left the outsiders with more questions than answers.

"Professor, do you have any idea of who or what this 'oracle' can be?" The assistant asked him as they walked towards the rope bridges.

"**…**I think we should ask Clark about it when we see him."

Before long she could ask another thing, the two saw that the bridge they needed to cross was roped off. Assuming it was just a harmless prank, they cut off the rope and crossed.

What they saw on the other side of the bridge was definitely not the work of a mere prankster, though.

**-oooooooo-**

Luke Triton stood by the window of his room. Though he was not very pale-skinned, he definitely looked like a sickly apparition that was made to look like the once lively boy he used to be. The lights were off and the blinds were drawn, though a small crack of light managed to make its way through and into the bedroom. This was the closest he had been to getting some fresh air in a very long time. How long? That was a hard question. The usual concepts of time measuring (such as "day", "week" and "month") had become seemingly alien to the boy.

To him, there was just one long night with intervals of day in between. "Tonight" and "Not-tonight" had become the only measure of time in Luke's mind. In the willing isolation of his room, "tonights" were the times where he would have to peek outside his room (or hopefully, wait until Doland came with his breakfast/lunch) and tell them where the specter would appear that very night; "not-tonights" were the more quiet times: when he would be able to practice the violin, read one of the many books in his bedroom or muse about the events that were unraveling in Misthallery.

A small rodent shyly scattered to his side and squeaked to get his attention.

Luke turned towards the animal and smiled.

"Yes, I know: Great Ely Street**…**thank you Toppy."

The critter rested its small head on him. Luke smiled. For a moment, it was almost as if he had returned to who he was before. Almost. Because Luke new all too well that nothing would ever be the same. But perhaps**…**things would not change for the worse.

"Now that they are here," Luke uttered to himself "everything will be better**…**right?"

The gerbil blinked up at him, a certain shine of agreement on its small eyes.


	3. Chapter 2: Misthallery's Guardians

**Chapter 2- Misthallery's Guardians**

"P-professor! Look at that house!" Emmy cried. "It's been torn to pieces!"

Indeed, the pile of rubble and broken glass that had once been someone's home was a sad testament of the destructive power of…what exactly? They had no idea. But there was no denying that the destruction was very real.

"So…is this what Clark was warning us on his letter?" Layton mused, for there was not much he could do instead.

Emmy, on the other hand, took out a camera from her pocket and snapped a picture of the destruction.

"Emmy? Why did you-?"

"As your assistant, I have to keep a record of things, right?" she clicked another photo. "We need evidence to examine this case."

Smart. Hershel was starting to like her company more and more.

Then something among the pile of useless trash caught his eye.

"Emmy, what do you make out of that?"

The lass turned to see what he was talking about. On what had most likely been the door of the house, a strange carving was made. The mark was made to resemble something… though the exact word escaped her the moment she saw it. It was a crude carving of a being with four extremities, though not quite human. Judging from where the peephole and the remains of the doorknob were, the aforementioned being seemed to have been upside down: though the handiwork was a bit too coarse to be completely certain. Emmy wouldn't have been surprised it wasn't even part of the original décor. She knelt down to see how deep the craving went…

"Don't touch the Witch's Mark, unless you want to end like that poor Brock!" a boisterous boy with bouncy curls giggled "By the way, I'm Brock. Nice to meet you and all that."

"The 'Witch's Mark'?" Emmy sat up and turned towards the boy that had come from seemingly nowhere.

"Witch's Mark, the Sigil of Destruction, Herald of Misfortune…it's all the same. Ironically enough, if turned right side up it's the exact opposite. Not like it matters: even if it had appeared right side up then I would be worse off! I used to complain about this dump all the time!" Then…the boy began to laugh. His reaction only startled the two visitors. "Now I've been freed from living here! Hahaha! Look at how ruined it is! Haha!"

"…Was this your home?" the professor asked, feeling quite self-conscious at how the victim of a catastrophe seemed to be taking the destruction of their house quite well, to say the least. "I'm truly sorry-"

"Haha! There's no need for you to feel bad for me! You can even laugh along! Hahaha!"

Emmy glanced at the professor sadly. Regardless of what the curly-haired Brock said, she couldn't quite bring herself to laugh along. In fact, she couldn't quite see how he could laugh with so much enthusiasm. She was certain that even if her house would not be the most comfortable of places, she would feel distraught if it were destroyed in such a thorough manner.

"Brock, are you scaring people again?" A plump woman with a rather motherly vibe dragged a cart filled to the brim with all sorts of house appliances and clothes down the road "You know that most people would think you're crazy if they saw you like that!"

"Oh, pipe down Jasmine! They are nicer than most outsiders!" Brock chortled. However he was kind enough to calm down his boisterous laugher. "They are smart enough to not try to make me stop laughing: so they must be trustworthy. Plus, I think that they managed to get past Charlie so they are good enough!"

"…Please forgive him," Jasmine wheezed as she turned her attention to the professor and Emmy. "He always takes things lightly, even when they happen to him. Did he or Charlie cause you much trouble?"

"It's fine madam," Hershel Layton tipped his top hat. "If you don't mind my asking…are you moving?"

Jasmine seemed a bit reluctant to say, though after casting a long look at Brock (and the rather obvious cart she was dragging about), she came to a decision. "You could say so. I'm evacuating. Just for tonight, then I'll go back home…if it's still there."

"Is there an emergency?" Layton grew wary.

"The specter has been appearing and destroying the place!" Brock cried, a bit too cheerfully and one would expect "Not to mention that the Witch's Mark has been popping all around the place! Things are certainly not boring around Misthallery anymore!"

Jasmine sighed.

"The police told me to evacuate, so I did." The plump woman concluded firmly "If I may…"

With almost inhuman strength, she readied the cart and began walking down the cobble walkway without any sign of feeling the strain of such a heavy load.

"Madam? Would you like any assistance?" Emmy piped upon noticing that the cart contained things that one would normally not be moving around: like a refrigerator, the dishwasher and living room furniture.

"I'm fine!" Jasmine yelled back "Just do what you must and leave as soon as you can!"

Wordlessly, Layton took a few steps back and walked away from the ruined building. His assistant followed him closely.

Once she deemed that they were out of earshot, she asked him a question.

"Professor, what do you think is up with this whole specter and Witch's Mark business?"

"There is clearly something causing chaos in Misthallery. However, we should investigate further before drawing any conclusions."

"Right!" Emmy energetically agreed "Don't want to miss the forest for the trees, eh?"

"Hm…" Layton smiled slightly "I suppose that's one way of putting it."

As they walked on, the pair found themselves on the western side of the Grand Bridge District, which was more nature than building. In fact, only one building was there.

A white manor. Two stories, a basement and an attic with a lovely red brick roof. Isolated from the rest of the town by the woods surrounding it, the estate inspired reverence and tranquility that seemed almost ethereal. Hershel Layton knew that he was at his old friend's house before reading the mailbox in front of the house that had "Triton Estate" engraved on it. The home was exactly how Clark had described it to him, many years ago.

"So, this is Mr. Triton's house? Emmy smiled "It feels so nice and peaceful here!"

"The perfect place to raise a family, don't you think?" Layton couldn't help but smile as he agreed with her.

Emmy also smiled and followed to professor to the porch.

**-oooooooo-**

"You have visitors."

Clark Triton rose his head from the paperwork he was signing and carefully set the golden-nib quill he was using down.

"Visitors, you say?" Clark asked without rising from his seat.

"Yes." The old man before him said simply. "From outside, too. A certain Hershel Layton and a woman that was accompanying him but didn't introduce herself. They say that you summoned them there with a letter."

"Oh, now did I?" Without another word, Clark rose from his seat and walked towards the man before him. If he was surprised upon hearing his old friend's name, he did not show it at all. In fact, Clark seemed to be perfectly calm about the news.

"It seems you have," the old man pushed back his glasses to the bridge of his nose. "Should I send them away?"

"No. Tell them to wait in the parlor. It's rude to not treat one's guests. Especially if they come from so far away…"

"As you wish." The butler left the study, not before giving an awkward little bow.

Clark waited, by the door, until he was certain that he was out of earshot. Then, Clark walked out of the study and down the hall. He stood before the familiar door he had seen closed for the past two weeks.

"Luke, a friend of mine just came to visit."

Nobody answered on the other side of the wooden slab.

"Do try your best to treat him well" Clark continued "Hershel Layton is a good man, as I've told you before. Remember what your mother used to say all the time about guests? _'__Be not inhospitable to strangers_…_'_"

"… '_lest they be angels in disguise.__'_" The father heard Luke murmur on the other side of the door. It was as if he was reciting a prayer underneath his breath and accidently spoke a bit louder than intended.

**-oooooooo-**

To say that the Triton parlor was fancy would have been an understatement. The room was decorated with all sorts of expensive-looking knickknacks (as confusing as that may sound). Much to Emmy's joy, there was a gorgeous picture of Misthallery that was taken by a photographer that she admired. The professor was quite glad to see that the sofa they were seating on was about as comfortable as the one he used to fall asleep on at the university he taught. On the coffee table, a lovely vase of azure crystal held a bouquet of wheat-colored wild flowers.

Before either the professor or his assistant could take a further look at the rest of the room, the door opened and a man with a tired expression and groomed beard stepped Layton and Emmy stood up form the sofa to greet the man who had just come in. As soon as the newcomer saw his guests, his eyes brightened up quite a bit.

"Hershel! How long has it been? And…who's that lady accompanying you?"

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Triton," Emmy offered her hand to the man as soon as she realized he was talking about her. "My name is Emmy Altava and I'm the professor's assistant. Please, call me Emmy."

Clark shook her hand and turned to his friend.

"An assistant? You seem to have made a name for yourself already!"

"Emmy was assigned to me today," Layton explained. "Either way, she has already proven herself to be my equal in several areas."

"Really?" Clark grinned. Though he had seemed tired just moments ago, talking to his friend had an almost magical effect on him. He turned to the lass. "Emmy, Hershel and I met in university. Back in the day, we were had the same goal of becoming elite archeologists and making significant discoveries. So far, it seems that he's still going for that dream. I, on the other hand, have been elected mayor of this scenic little town. It's a full-time job, I'll give you that. But enough about that… I was told that you came here because of a letter that I sent you?"

"Yes. We were meaning to ask you about-"

"May I read it?"

The professor handed the mayor the letter, somewhat intrigued by why the sender of the letter would want to read it.

Clark's smile disappeared and was replaced with the tired expression he had when he walked into the parlor. However, he made no remark about the letter and handed it back to the professor.

For a moment, both Layton and Emmy were confused beyond relief. Whilst the latter could have assumed that Clark Triton was merely an odd individual, the former knew that he was not acting like he normally would.

"There are many legends handed down here in Misthallery," Clark sat down on the sofa opposite of where Layton and Emmy were seating as he made a gesture for his guests to take a seat as well. "The most popular and well-known of said legends is the one of Misthallery's specter. While the other legends also are important and in fact compliment the legend of the specter, they are not quite as prominent."

The guests sat down and listened attentively.

Clark sighed and began to recite.

"A long and harsh war had just ended and Misthallery had begun to show signs of prosperity and peace. However, because of this prosperity a pack of bandits arrived to attack the town and plunder it. Before they could set foot on it, the sound of a flute was heard all around the town and the player was nowhere to be seen. While the bandits were surprised by the music, the fog thickened. A great monster appeared from the mist and defeated the invaders. Once the attack had been pushed back, the sound of the flute slowly stopped and the specter disappeared along with it. Since then, it is said that Misthallery is protected from all outside harm by the work of the flute player and the specter.

"Every time someone tried to conquer the town, the mist would blind them, the canals would slow them and even if that failed the specter would definitely push them back. However, the power of the specter was made only to protect the city. If the flute player were to summon the specter for impure reasons, most obviously to conquer other towns, it is said that the specter will destroy everything to rebuild the world anew."

"So, the specter is like a guardian of Misthallery?" Emmy asked.

"According to the legends, the specter is the most prominent guardian, though there are other beings who protect the town along with it. While the specter was a physical manifestation to protect the city, the other beings played a lesser yet still effective role: like they would sabotage the enemy with sickness as soon as they came or maybe make the weather conditions so unpleasant to be in that it would dissuade any invaders.

"However, the townspeople say that lately the guardians of Misthallery are revolting against us: people have been falling sick, yet doctors can't quite treat their illness; the canals froze during winter, something that is associated with great misfortune in another legend of Misthallery; and at night a giant appears out of nowhere to destroy our homes. Some say that it's the specter of the legend. I'm not so eager to believe that, myself.

"However, it's obvious that there is mischief afoot. I've tried calling people outside of Misthallery for help, but the telephone lines have been obstructed. People who tried to leave the town to relay messages were inconvenienced in all sorts of ways. All of the letters I've sent out of town were returned to my house, unopened."

"But the letter that you sent to me," Layton pointed out "It arrived just fine!"

Clark stroke his beard and sighed.

"I didn't send you that letter. I prefer writing my letters by hand: you know that. Though I wonder how the person who sent it managed to get it delivered without being returned…"

"Did you make any enemies lately?" The professor asked.

His friend replied with a bitter and forced chuckle.

"More than you'd think. I wouldn't be surprised if some of the townspeople told you that I'm the reason everything seems to be going wrong."

"Why would that be, Mr. Triton?" Emmy spoke up.

"On the day I was declared the winner of the election…well, suffice it to say that one of my contenders was less than satisfied. Not only because he lost, but because he has an idea that anybody that wasn't either born or raised in Misthallery isn't worthy enough to manage it."

"Oh… well this is a small town, isn't it?" Emmy commented. "It's normal for small communities to be more conservative, right?"

"Yes, I guess." Clark said noncommittally.

"Clark..." Hershel Layton spoke up "On the way here, we saw a house that completely destroyed and the townspeople told us about a Witch's Mark and an oracle, do you have any idea of what they are talking about? Another legend behind it, perhaps?"

The mayor gasped in surprise, then furrowed his eyebrows. The professor immediately recognized that face as the one Clark would have whenever he knew he was close to deciphering something. However, instead of bursting out with a hearty "Eureka!" (like he always did after thinking things long enough), he rubbed his temples and shook his head.

"I had never thought of it, actually. Maybe there is a connection to the legends... but I can't answer it off the top of my head. I'll look into that and give you an answer as soon as possible, all right?"

"Oh it's all right, if you direct me to the library I'm sure I could find a book or two-"

"All of the books that chronicle the legends are not in the library, my friend." The mayor interrupted flatly "They are under key and it takes a lot to get access to them. Don't worry, if this will help our little town then I will be able to do it."

In an effort to cheer his friend up, even just a little, Layton tried a change of subject. The matter being the most sure-fire way to cheer him up: his family.

"By the way Clark, how are Brenda and Luke? They are not accompanying us today…?"

The question, though well meant, brought a pained grimace to the mayor. However, he was quick enough to dispel it.

"My wife is… away, taking care of family matters. Luke, on the other hand, has been inside his room since this whole disaster began…"

"Really? That's unusual," the professor's gentle smile fell a bit. Not only because of his friend's somber response, but because the news seemed to be a bit too odd for comfort. "I was under the impression that he was a very lively and happy boy form the letters that you used to send me"

"It's all my fault…" Clark mumbled.

"What did you say?" Emmy asked.

"Nothing," the mayor quickly replied. "Though now that you are here, I suppose that we can finally work together to fix this mess and-"

"Master."

Clark gave the butler an annoyed look. Despite that the old man had shyly interrupted him, he was not intimidated by the glare he was receiving.

"I know that you must be so excited to see your university friend and his delightful company, but there are many preparations to take care of before the celebration of your first year anniversary as mayor of Misthallery. Surely, you remember how unpleasant it was when you took office, almost one year ago? I'm certain you wouldn't want that happening again."

"…"Clark screwed his eyes shut and, as if he was taking a long sip of bitter medicine, he reluctantly said: "You're right. We are running out of time. Hershel, this is not how I would like things to go but…if you could…?"

"Of course I will investigate the matter. You must be very busy, so I'll try to help in any way I can to lighten your burden."

"Thank you…" The bearded man seemed reluctant to entrust the duty to his friend, but seemed unable to think of any other arrangement. "Also, if you need to stay overnight you can use the guestroom here…or go to the hotel. Do as you please: my house is open for you, my friend."

"Thank you for your hospitality, Clark." The professor smiled gently at his friend. "Say, may I go see Luke? I haven't seen him in person since he was a baby and I haven't received a photo of him since he was six!"

"…If you must," Clark uneasily stroked his beard "I'll warn you, though: he might not answer the door nor let you into his room."

"Duly noted. Let's go, Emmy."

**-oooooooo-**

Luke laid on his bed, his eyes open and his mind restless. He had tried to take a nap, like Doland had kindly suggested to him when Luke mentioned that his head had been hurting to a while. Unfortunately, even though he was tired and hadn't really been sleeping very well, he could not quite bring himself to fall fast asleep and just forget about the world outside his window for just a few hours.

How sad…

But now there was no more time to try to rest: he had to take action. The window of opportunity to save Misthallery was drawing near. Knowing what was on stake, it would preferable for him not to miss the chance.

With this little thought of encouragement, the boy got up form bed and walked over to his door.

He set his hand on the doorknob and listened.

His excitement was only shadowed by his exhaustion.


	4. Chapter 3: The Oracle

**Chapter 3- The Oracle**

Layton gently knocked on the door. He didn't want to startle Luke, who, according to his friend, was very upset about the happenings at the village. In his mind's eye, he tried to imagine how the boy's aspect was on the other side of the door. An image formed in his mind's eye: a boy with shadows beneath his eyes, hair unkempt and paler than chalk was the first thing that came to mind. Hopefully Luke didn't look so bad…

"He's not answering…" Emmy muttered. "What time is it? Maybe he's asleep."

Layton glanced about the hallway to answer Emmy's question. His eyes fell on a grandfather clock that claimed it was only seven in the evening. A bit too early for a ten-year old to be asleep…

Before he managed to finish his quiet pondering, the door of the bedroom opened.

On the threshold, a young boy with a somewhat sickly complexion looked up at them with wide and unusually bright eyes. If there were shadows beneath his eyes, then they were made unnoticeable by how lively his eyes seemed to be. His hair and clothes seemed to be perfectly clean, despite living in the relative isolation of his room for a long time. Unlike his eyes, his face seemed to be perfectly expressionless. The room behind him was completely dark.

"Oh, I'm sorry! Did we wake you up, little one?" Emmy smiled at him as she knelt down to his level. "Hello Luke, my name is-"

"Pleased to meet you, Emmy." The boy spoke very quietly. As if he didn't want to break the silence in the house. His eyes then turned to the professor "And you too Mr. Layton."

While the young woman gaped at the boy, the professor just tipped his top hat slightly at him.

"You too, Luke. I suppose your father told you much about me?"

Luke's eyes remained on the man's face. It was as if he was studying him intently. But then he just mumbled: "Not really."

"Really? Then was it your mother that told you about me?"

"…" Luke's eyes drifted away from the professor's face to the empty hallway behind the pair. The professor turned to see what Luke was staring at, but found nothing particularly interesting behind him.

"Um…are you ok?" Emmy waved her hand in front of Luke's face. "Do you want to eat something? You're looking kind of-"

"Too bright..." Luke closed his eyes and placed his hands over them.

"Oh?" Emmy stared at Luke, her eyebrow raised. "Are you getting a migraine?"

The boy rubbed his eyes. However, he didn't answer the young woman.

"May we step inside your room, Luke?" Layton took a few steps and reached down to grab his hand. "It's darker there."

Luke nodded and walked inside the darkness of his room, still holding on to the professor's hand. Seeing this as an invitation, Emmy followed the two inside and closed the door behind them.

Some light managed to squeeze itself through the curtains, but otherwise the room was as dark as it could be. It took a while for Layton and Emmy's eyes to make out the contours of the furniture around them. Upon entering, Luke let go of the professor's hand and walked over to his bed. Not a single step of his seemed to indicate that he had any difficulty moving in the dark. In fact: his eyes seemed to be still closed as he reached the bed and sat down on it.

"Thank you." Luke whispered once again.

"Have your eyes been hurting?" Emmy asked. Atmosphere of the room seemed to have an effect on her: since she found herself whispering too.

"No." Luke answered simply. "But it's easier for me to see well when I don't see."

"…" Layton cupped his chin with his hands as he thought through what the boy was saying.

"So, you're…" Emmy struggled to find the most delicate words to say "having problems seeing?"

Luke didn't answer.

Worrying that she might have offended him, she turned to (where she supposed) the professor was. She hoped that he would be able to handle things much more delicately, or at least with more know-how. This wasn't her friend's son, how on Earth was she supposed to know that he couldn't-?

"That's strange …" the professor muttered, much to Emmy's confusion. "Your parents never mentioned anything you having sight problems to me, Luke."

The boy remained silent. However, his hand rose and pointed straight in front of him, where his bookshelf was.

The professor walked over to the bookshelf and ran his hand on the spines. He then took a book at random and opened it. It was a picture book, judging from the vague shape on the page that the man could make out in the dark. What it was about completely escaped him.

"…'_And so the wyvern made her nest on the dew-speckled meadow. Overlooking over her cubs, she guarded her young with fierce determination_.' "Luke suddenly said. Not mumbled, nor whispered. He spoke normally: which in comparison was as if he suddenly yelled.

"I beg your pardon?" Emmy asked as fiddled with a strand of her hair.

Luke sat up from his bed and opened up the curtains.

Light bathed the room and a breeze came in. Somewhere in the distance, a few birds chirped quietly. On the walls was a wallpaper that was elegant, yet simple. The hardwood floor had a round rug. On his desk there was only a typewriter, a quill and a notebook.

The child remained in place, by the windowsill. His eyes slowly opened as he turned to look at the professor. Or rather, at the book he was holding.

The professor looked down at the book he had in his hands.

A beautiful picture of a winged lizard in a grassy hill was right on the page he had opened. The creature in question seemed to be tending a nest, filled to the brim with eggs. On the side of the page there was a caption that read: "_And so the wyvern made her nest on the dew-speckled meadow. Overlooking over her cubs, she guarded her young with fierce determination_."

"This is…" Layton rose his eyebrow, bewildered at what had just happened.

"I'm completely lost here." Emmy crossed her arms and sighed. "Can someone please explain to me what's going on?"

"Luke just recited a page from this book." Layton helpfully answered "Incidentally, the page happened to be the one on which I opened the book on."

"What? So you brought us in here because you just wanted us to take a look at your magic trick?" She asked at Luke with indignation.

"…" Luke then mumbled something unintelligible.

"Didn't quite catch that, young one." The lass sighed once again.

"…I am not deceiving you." Luke whispered a little it louder as he turned to look at the world outside his window. "This is how it had to be."

"Well, it's a bit hard to understand you if you don't speak clearly." Emmy declared as she placed her arms akimbo and turned to look at the professor for any kind of help in deciphering what the boy had just said.

" 'It's easier for me to see well when I don't see'…" Layton said as he took a closer look at the picture book he had chosen. "Emmy, I think Luke just showed us how he knew our names before we even met him properly."

"He did?" Emmy gaped at the professor. "Is it in that book?"

Without waiting for the man to answer, she took the book from his hands and flipped back to the title page.

"_Tales of Fantastical Beings_, by Mimi Greyfallow." Emmy read "Hey! This book was printed in Misthallery!"

Layton cupped his chin with his hand as he processed the new information. After a while, he turned to Luke.

"Luke, on our way through town we saw the impressive destruction of a so-called specter that has been attacking Misthallery. However, not a single person has been harmed because of this. Someone has been warning the citizens beforehand the incidents."

He took a few steps towards the boy. Luke remained still. His bright eyes looking right at him with unnerving vividness.

"I have a very important question for you, my boy. Do you know when the specter will appear next?"

"What?!" Emmy gasped. "Professor, you think that _Luke_ is the oracle?"

"…" Luke remained silent as he turned to the door of his room. In a matter of seconds, a knock was heard.

"Hershel? Emmy? Are you two in there?" Clark asked from the other side of the door.

"Please come in, father." Luke said.

Silence.

Then, Clark's confused figure opened the door as he took a bewildered look at the room around him.

Luke turned away from his father and placed his head against a nearby wall for support.

"Luke?" Clark took a few uncertain steps closer to his son "Is something wrong?"

"Tonight. North Ely." Luke mumbled. "There are still too many people there."

Clark's face lost all of its color as soon as he heard that.

"Didn't Doland already go to the police and told them to evacuate?"

"People from North Ely are strong-willed." The boy said as he straightened up and sat on his bed. His voice becoming quieter and quieter "They want to see if they can use their strength to fight it off for once and for all."

"And if they do…" the father seemed reluctant to ask "Will they succeed?"

"No."

After barely managing to say that, Luke laid back on his bed.

"H-hey! Are you feeling sick?" Emmy handed the professor the book and walked over to Luke's bed. She then took out a strawberry gum candy from her coat and offered it to him. "If you are hungry, you should at least eat this. It's not really nutritious, but the sugar will pick you right up!"

Luke opened his eyes and looked at the candy. Then at Emmy. A small smile appeared on his face as he grabbed the small strawberry-flavored sweet and placed it on his mouth. He suckled on the candy as he curled up on his bed and closed his eyes.

It seemed that the young woman's efforts were in vain, for Luke seemed to have fallen asleep with the candy in his mouth.

Clark made a motion for Layton and Emmy to follow him outside the room. Seeing no other reason to disturb the boy's sleep, they did.

**-oooooooo-**

"Amazing…what did you two do?" The father asked once they back in the parlor. "It has been months since I saw him so animated!"

"We didn't do much, Clark." The professor said as he opened the book he had unwillingly taken from the child's bedroom. "We just arrived, did what he asked us to do and asked him where the specter would appear next."

The mayor chuckled at the last part. "You figured it out fast. Not only that but you got your hands on a very good book. Be sure to give it back to Luke, I would rather not have someone stealing my son's books."

"Master?"

Clark jumped as he turned to the ever-unnoticeable butler. 'Oh! Doland! What is it?"

"Excuse me, sir, but it seems that there is a revolt surfacing at North Ely. Some people are refusing to evacuate and are asking for you to make an appearance."

"Like clockwork…" Clark sighed with indignation as he straightened his tie and followed the butler. "Hershel, Emmy. I'm very sorry to leave you like this, but this might end badly if I don't get there and calm things down. Please, feel free to wander about the estate as you please while I sort this out."

"We will." Layton said as he tipped his hat.

Clark nodded and followed the butler outside.

"It sure seems as if Luke's little guess was right…" Emmy commented once they were gone. "I wonder how he managed to do it…"

"Hm…I wonder too." The professor flipped through the pages of the picture book and then looked at her. "Say, Emmy: could you read this passage out loud?"

"Huh? Sure…" she took the book and looked at the page that the professor had indicated. "The herald of fortune flew high into the sky as it-ah!"

Emmy gasped as she looked at the illustration on the book. A glorious orange bird, with its wings extended far and wide, was flying upwards. Its claws were stretched out. The beautifully detailed image somehow brought back to her mind another, much more crudely-made image she had seen that very same day.

"Professor! This is the Witch's Mark!"

"Not quite, Emmy. Remember what that boy, Brock, told us? This is the original: the Witch's Mark is upside down. Still…I am certain that this picture book will help us get a better idea of the legends of Misthallery."

"Really? Then let's read it!" The lass animatedly sat down on a comfortable sofa, placed the book on the table and took out a pen and a small notebook from her pocket. She opened the book on the index. "Professor, it seems that this picture book has several short stories in them. Should we read them as they come or should we skip ahead to the more interesting-sounding ones?"

"Let's read it in its entirety." Layton suggested as he sat in the sofa in front of Emmy's and cupped his chin. "After all, we have enough time."

Emmy began to read the first story out loud, pausing to take notes every now and then.

* * *

_1- Peace and Prosperity._

_After a long winter, a clan of badgers came out of their burrows to see the how the outside world had fared. Much to their surprise, they found a thriving village had just settled right outside during the winter. _

_They decided to ask one of the villagers, a happy little gnome, about how the village came to be._

"_Why,__"__ the gnome said as he wriggled his moustache, __"__We decided to make a place where all fantastical creatures could live together through the winter and other such hardships! It was so cold, we realized that the best way to live would be if we all worked together to keep each other warm and happy!__"_

_The gnome then giggled and guided them to the village square, where the mayor: an elegant griffin, gave them a warm welcome._

"_Please, stay here. Your ability to make tunnels and move in the dark will be useful to our town of meadows and fog. We will always welcome any and all fantastical creatures.__"_

_The proposal, along with the fact that their burrows were already placed by the village entrance made the clan eagerly agree to the proposal. _

_Now, the magical badgers had a home and an even larger family! They celebrated the arrival of spring with the other village members by dancing and having a feast of blueberries, strawberries, mint and lots of fresh water!_

* * *

"That was very cute, wasn't it professor? These pictures are lovely too…"

"I can't really see the pictures from this angle, Emmy. However, I suppose I'll take your description as accurate."

"Oh! I'm sorry professor! Do you want me to turn the book around?"

"No, no. It's quite all right. Please continue Emmy."

"A-all right…"

* * *

_2- Wyvern and Eagle_

_Even in a village full of good company, some of the residents didn__'__t get along immediately. Some simply couldn__'__t stand each other for any reason._

_This was the case of a wyvern and an eagle. Both creatures shared a lot in common. The main thing they both enjoyed was to bask in the warm waters of the lake. The wyvern liked to slither and swim about in the lake, along with the nixies and the water fairies. The eagle preferred to stay still and merely float on the thermal waters, like the other birds of the village._

_Nobody in the village knew why they never got along. They just didn__'__t. In a village so full of many different creatures, it was normal for some creatures to simply not get along with others. _

_The eagle made his home at the top of the tallest and most verdant tree in town along with an owl. The wyvern lived on a cave nearby the village, where she lived with a dragon and a family of bears._

_One day, the wyvern found a partner. She decided to move out of her cave and into a place that the sun would shine down on her future cubs. _

_She asked the wyrms of the village, but they said that they didn__'__t know of a good place to be that wasn__'__t inside a cave._

_She asked the fairies of the village, but they were too busy playing pranks of the griffin to notice her._

_She asked the wise owl of the village, but he told her that the only one who would know of the best place to put her nest would be the eagle._

_It took all of her might (and a bruise to her pride) to go to the eagle. Upon seeing her determination to give the best to her own cubs, the eagle felt touched. He immediately suggested her the best spot in the meadow, without ever once thinking about how he could have just said the worst place to annoy her._

_And so the __wyvern made her nest on the dew-speckled meadow. Overlooking over her cubs, she guarded her young with fierce determination._

_Once all of her cubs had grown enough to be left alone, the wyvern and the eagle started to genuinely get along. They talked together for days and days until one day they happened to realize__…__ that they were the best of friends._

* * *

Emmy rose her eyebrows as she looked at the last two pages of the second story. "How do you think Luke knew that you were going to open the book and look at this page?"

"I cannot say…for now. I can say this: he didn't put any sort of bookmark on it to distinguish the page."

"You're right… Professor there is still more in this picture book. Let me read you the next story."

"Go ahead Emmy."

* * *

_3- Herald of Fortune_

_A firebird flew over the village on its way south for the Winter. Upon seeing so much life and activity, as well as several creatures from different kinds coexisting in harmony, he decided to drop by to see more._

_A nixie noticed the firebird arrive and shouted: __"__A messenger! A messenger has arrived!__"_

_Soon enough, everybody in the village gathered to look at the phoenix that was gracefully gliding over the town. _

_The gnomes marveled at its orange plumage._

_The wyverns and their cubs admired its elegant posture._

_The griffin, the mayor of the town at the time, saw the way the newcomer seemed to enjoy the attention of the villagers and decided to welcome him to the village._

_Up on the air, both the griffin and the firebird talked._

"_What a marvelous little town! Everyone seems so lively and happy. I never would have thought that anybody would decide to build a town like this on such a foggy and green meadow!__"__ the firebird exclaimed as it flapped its orange and red wings in synch._

"_The water fairies, unicorns and nixies like to make fog, it calms them down.__"__ The griffin replied. __"__The meadow is green because the elves tend to it with dedication. Everyone living in our town works hard to make it a better place for others to live in. Regardless of the species or the abilities they have, every single creature is allowed to live within our town.__"_

"_Every creature?__"__ The phoenix asked, __"__Including the human folk? Do you know how those beings can act or what they can do? Would you allow them to live in this prosperous little town?__"_

"_Of course we will allow them to live in this town. The humans are resourceful creatures and they can be ingenious as well.__"_

"_Then why is there not a single human in this village?__"_

"_They cannot find us through the thick fog. It strays them. We tried to convince a few to live with us, but they all got lost and eventually gave up in trying to find our town.__"_

"_Then allow me to help you. I will use my fire to guide the humans to the settlement. Then, I will truly be a messenger.__"_

_The newfound herald flapped his wings with a flourish and took off. It didn__'__t take him long to find a family of woodcutters living on a small cottage in the forest. _

_He tapped on the window of the cottage and, once he had gotten the attention of those living inside the house, flew off into the direction of the town. _

_At first, the human folk were confused by the signal. But the youngest daughter insisted on chasing after the messenger._

_So the father, the mother and the three daughters chased after the firebird. Through the woods, the fog and the meadows until they finally reached the town._

_As usual, the griffin welcomed the humans with the same amount of kindness as any other creature would get upon arriving at the town._

_The woodcutter and his wife agreed to stay, on the condition to be able to go back to their cottage and inviting their friend (who was a blacksmith) to come along._

_The firebird led them back to their home, then to the town again, this time accompanied by the blacksmith. Once there, the blacksmith agreed to stay, but just as long as his fiancé and her father (who was a tanner) could come along._

_And so, the phoenix guided the slowly growing amount of humans back and forth the town. After settling down on the town, the humans proceeded to continue their trades and sell their goods to the inhabitants of the town, regardless of their species._

_Before long, the already prosperous town soon began to grow even faster than ever before. _

"_We have to thank you,__"__ the mayor told the phoenix. __"__Without your guidance, herald of fortune, the humans might have never come to our village and our town wouldn__'__t be as lively as it is now.__"_

"_I have to thank you for giving me the opportunity to do so. I must now leave for the south, for the winters in this land are harsh.__"_

"_Please, don__'__t leave! We have so much to thank you for, everyone would like for you to stay. The dragons will breathe warmth to the air and the nixies will keep the rivers and lakes from freezing. The humans are planning on keeping a bonfire by the center of town burning to keep the cold and the dark away.__"_

"_Allow me to think about it__…"__The firebird said._

_The herald of fortune flew high into the sky as it overlooked the town for what he thought to be the last time. Winter was coming and even for a mighty firebird such as himself, the cold winds would be too much for him to handle._

_But, he thought, maybe the dragons__'__ warm breath could help him. A warm bonfire would definitely be welcome as well. If the human folk had shown so much interest in coexistence, then that meant that the village was truly something special._

_It didn__'__t take long for him to decide to stay._

* * *

"These stories are a bit strange, aren't they professor?" Emmy asked after reading the last line of the story. "I'm not sure if these are supposed to be vignettes or fables."

"Hm…The second story certainly had an implicit moral, much like a fable. But I think that what is relevant here is to notice that this image of a phoenix in flight is quite ingrained into the folktales of Misthallery…" the professor rubbed his chin in thought. "So much so that it has become the object of superstitions. I believe that we first have to investigate further on this 'Herald of Fortune'-"

"It's the Barde's family sigil," a voice drifted from the doorway. "But it has been misused so much that most people just assume now that it's supposed to represent something else completely different from its true meaning."

"Luke," Emmy gasped upon seeing the child, "did you have a nice nap?"

The boy nodded. He then fiddled his fingers. After a moment or two, the young boy said: "Usually they're really brief and don't have so many details. But this time that's how it happened. It was the easiest way that you would see that I never meant to deceive you."

"What are you talking about, little one?" Emmy scratched her head. "You shouldn't just say lose pieces of information and assume that we know exactly what you mean to say."

"Actually, I think that Luke was trying to confirm to us that he is indeed the oracle that we were told about. Ever since the beginning, he has been showing us his ability to foresee all sorts of details."

"Oh…" Emmy crossed her arms as she smiled awkwardly at the young boy "But why didn't you just tell us from the beginning?"

"You wouldn't have believed me, you would have thought that I had completely lost it." The boy's immediately replied. "You, Miss Emmy, would have restrained me as Mr. Layton went to talk to my father about it. You two would have insisted on taking me to London, and my father would have immediately agreed, but not for the reason you think. After that, you would have realized that your strange red car and yellow moped are both not working. Miss Emmy would have checked the machines to see that they are both missing the ignition coil. You two would have had a debate about whether to walk all the way to London or just leave me at home. After deciding that you would stay here, you would have left me at home and gone off on your investigation."

After this long-winded explanation, there was only silence.

It was hard to tell, if the professor and Emmy had just witnessed another ability related to Luke's predictions or if they had just seen an account of how active the child's imagination was.

"The world has become absurd." Luke suddenly said, his eyes fixed on the floor by his feet. "That which is absurd must cease to exist and be replaced with what is true."

Layton and Emmy blinked in confusion at the apparent non sequitur. Not shock, for they both had reached to the conclusion that speaking in such strange, seemingly disconnected way was to be expected from the child.

"That is why…" the young boy raved on, "that is why the specter is attacking. …It _is_ protecting us, but the townspeople fail to see that it's protecting us from that."

"Protecting the town from… what exactly, Luke?" The professor asked the young oracle.

The boy's eyes looked up at him and glazed over as he thought of the question he had been asked. Tilting his head to the side, he seemed to be deep in thought. After being lost in thought for a while he straitened his head and blinked in confusion.

Soon enough, apprehension filled his once unanimated eyes. Luke seemed to be at a genuine loss of words. As if what he was thinking was so grand that he couldn't quite think of a way to begin to express it.

It was then that the child said something that Layton and Emmy didn't expect him to say.

"I don't know what you're talking about."


	5. Chapter 4: The Veil of Truth

**Chapter 4- The Veil of Truth**

"Triton! How nice to see that the _mayor_ is gracing us with his presence!" Greppe, a burly man with an aquiline nose, commented as soon as Clark reached the impromptu gathering that was occurring at Pike Lane's well.

"Good day to you too," the mayor sighed as he casted a look around the group of people that seemed to be growing by the second. Some carried pans; others bats and even one boy had a yo-yo on his hand. At least none had a lighted torch or pitchfork with them. "I'll suppose that this lovely little gathering was your idea?"

"Not my idea, Triton! Ours." Greppe's voice was caustic and laced with unabashed disappointment "We're not like _some _people, only looking out for their own skin! We will not allow your incompetence to ruin our homes. Our families have been here since time immemorial and we will not allow this apparition to scare us away from home!"

An animated cry of agreement emerged from the growing crowd. Clark sighed at the spectacle. It was almost like the election campaign all over again. Greppe always knew how to appease the crowds, how to touch their sense of lineage to motivate them… It made Clark sometimes wonder how things would have turned out if Greppe had won the elections instead of him… It was no secret that Greppe gave the state of Misthallery more than generous donations for reconstruction of the city with the condition of using specific construction materials, so even when he had lost the elections he remained fresh in the minds of the masses of Misthallery.

"Let it come!" Greppe announced with a flourish. "Let it try to take us down! We will not allow it through! The blood of our proud ancestors flows through our veins, just like the canals of Misthallery flow!"

"The canals froze during the winter." Clark stated with a firm -and level- voice. "I'm certain that you wouldn't forget that. Nor would you forget about the sinkholes? Or, for that matter, the illness?"

The crowd remained quiet. Their silence seemed respectful, but not quite sure to accept Clark's rebuttal just yet. To be honest, they were quite polite for a revolt. Perhaps was it because the one speaking was Clark Triton? The one they had chosen because he had made sure to stop the outrageous rent that the Barde family had been charging at the general populace for living in their lands? Or was it perhaps because once the mayor was elected, the masses unanimously respected the one that was chosen…? (At least, in his direct presence?)

"Ever since the first attack of this so-called 'Specter', we have been blessed with a forewarning. It would be disastrous to disregard the warning imposed by our source. Otherwise…why would they insist on evacuation? If the opportunity rose to strike back, they would be the first to know. Of that, I am certain."

Clark tried to not wince at the thought of addressing his son like just somebody that he consulted like a mayor seeking advice from. No matter how much Luke had been avoiding direct contact with him, it still felt awkward. Shaking his head to clear his mind, the mayor continued with his speech.

"People of North Ely! Gather your strength and bide your time; for it might just come sooner than you'd expect. Do not use your strength wastefully, for not only will it be a disservice to this neighborhood, but to Misthallery as well. Without your power, our town will be weakened to the strife it has to face. Please, evacuate. There is no shame in living to fight another day."

Silence.

Then…some people of the crowd quietly left for their homes -after all they had to get going as quickly as possible. Others looked at each other, wondering if maybe the mayor's plea was the best choice. At the head of the crowd, Greppe's eyes narrowed. He seemed to see the logic behind the reasoning behind Clark's counterargument. However, his pride didn't quite allow him to accept that the current mayor had been right.

But Clark couldn't have cared less. As the mayor, it was his duty to overlook the general condition of the inhabitants, but if Greppe still though that Clark's efforts weren't enough for him to be a worthy mayor, then there was no helping it.

Soon enough, the crowd had dissipated. Clark began to feel quite glad that at least he managed to do this one job right. Perhaps his luck was finally starting to change. About time, too. He turned around and began to head back into his house when-

"Triton. I have been asking around, and nobody seems to know who is our little oracle." Greppe called out, his eyes narrowed. "Why the secrecy? You know Misthallery: we wouldn't treat them as an outcast if they revealed themselves."

It was a bit surprising to hear Greppe say that he, Clark Triton, knew Misthallery. If anything Greppe had been fierce in pointing out his flaws as a potential mayor for his lack of insight at the town's history and traditions when they were still competing for the title of mayor. Moreover, his remarks at Clark's ineptitude at controlling the never-ending spiral of entropy were openly expressed at every opportunity that rose. After getting over the initial shock, Clark sighed and gave the same cryptic answer that Luke had given him almost six months ago when he had asked him almost the exact same question.

"_To make a fire, you need dry wood. Wet wood must the brought inside the cottage, left by the warmth of the hearth, and let it shed away its moisture. The wet wood may burn, but not as brightly as dry wood. In this long night, we will need as much light as we can gather."_

**-oooooooo-**

"What do you mean, you don't know?" Emmy let out an exasperated sigh at the boy's answer. If it could have been called that. Making such an important revelation**…** and then just saying that he had no idea what it meant? If Luke wouldn**'**t seem to be as frustrated as Emmy, she would have suspected him of playing some strange mind trick game with them. In fact, she was still suspecting him of doing so anyway.

"I don't understand the messages…" the boy shook his head "I just give them to the people that need them."

"Messages?" Layton cupped his chin. "Could you elaborate, my boy?"

"I… I can't." Luke muttered. "If I did they would be displeased…"

"Has someone been threatening you?" Emmy instantly perked up. It was true that most of the people in Misthallery were secretive… was somebody pulling the strings? She couldn't just stand and wait when such thing happened. "Don't worry Luke! We will protect you from them! I have contacts in the police and-"

"Don't mention it!" The boy urgently whispered at her "They could be hearing us right now…!"

"B-but-!" Emmy winced and looked around her nervously. The house was still and she couldn't make out a noise. They were good, whoever _they_ were. It made the hairs on the back of the young woman's head rise.

"Very well then." The professor interceded "It seems that we will have to take things as they come before jumping to conclusions. Which was the original plan, remember Emmy?"

Emmy begrudgingly let the matter go. She knew to trust the professor's judgment, but even then a part of her insisted that there was something off about turning a deaf ear on such blatant display of trouble. Emmy was not the kind of lady that would let the elephant in the room go ignored for long when she had the chance.

Layton picked up the picture book from the coffee table where his assistant had left it. He then walked over to the boy and handed him the book.

"Here's your book. It seems that I forgot to return it before leaving you."

Luke took the book silently. His gaze fixed on the floor by his left foot.

"How did you get this book? According to the edition notice, only a hundred copies were made."

"It was a birthday present." The boy said. "This book was not sold: the author's family gave copies away to close family or friends. It hasn't been reprinted nor is there a copy in the library. It's very rare."

"So… no copies made it out of Misthallery?" Emmy asked.

"Yes. Or at least, I doubt it. The circle of people that got this book is unlikely to leave this town or give away something like this… most of the Highyard Hill people are like that."

Layton tipped his hat. A gesture that he did whenever he had something on his mind.

"Highyard Hill? Is it a district in Misthallery?"

The young boy nodded. This usually bright eyes seemed to grow a bit hazy. "It's beyond the Highyard Bridge. Highyard Hill is the closest district to the lake…"

The boy seemed to be ill at ease as he spoke. As if talking about that specific district brought less than happy memories. Emmy, noticing this, wanted to press the child on. However, a stern look from the professor was enough to dissuade her from her idea.

"…I'm going back to my room." Luke said as he turned his back on the two outsiders. "The guest rooms are on the right corridor from the entrance. Please stay here during the length of your investigation, the hotel will be ruined tonight and the room that you would get after the destruction will be too drafty to sleep."

With that he walked outside the parlor, his feet making no sound on the wooden floor. As if his feet were not even touching the creaky wooden boards. Both Layton and Emmy watched the child's back until he finished going up the stairs and turned to the corridor that his room was in. While Luke himself was gone, the silence that seemed to surround him remained in the parlor. For a while, neither the professor nor the assistant could bring themselves to break the silence that started to muffle their thoughts. However, Emmy's mind somehow managed to work on the information she had gotten from the quiet boy and snapped itself out from the haze.

"…It seems that Misthallery is an even more closed community than you'd expect for such a small town, isn't it professor?" She crossed her arms to keep herself from shivering. "Giving away books only to a very select group of people... it's a bit suspicious."

"Hm..." Even the professor had a hard time trying to 'take things as they came'. It was highly likely that it meant nothing and yet… It did strike him as a bit odd. That and the fact that it was precisely that book that he took from the shelf made him feel a bit wary. But try as he might, worrying about it now wouldn't solve their problem. Perhaps, once they had investigated more…things would be clearer. It was the only choice they had. "Maybe if we ask around Highyard Hill for further information about the book we can settle our doubts. But let's review what we know now and make plans for later. How does that sound, Emmy?"

"That sounds fine by me, professor!" Emmy excitedly opened her notebook and read over her notes. "Luke said something about a family having a phoenix as a coat of arms, right?"

"Indeed, the Barde family if I recall correctly…." Layton smiled "Misthallery seems to be quite the haven for folktales, isn't it?"

"Well, the town does look pretty eerie, it must have trigged the imaginations of the people living here long ago." Emmy noted.

Layton chuckled at the observation of his assistant. However, he made no other comment.

"Professor! How about we take a look around the manor? Clark said we could and he will probably take his time calming down the people over at…uh…that place. North something, if I remember correctly…"

"Alright, but let's be careful to not overstep our invitation." The professor reached to grab the brim of his hat, apparently deep in thought. "I myself have to see something that has caught my attention…"

"Did you notice something wrong in the house?" The young woman raised her eyebrows high.

"Not quite wrong…but odd.**"** Layton looked around the parlor before turning towards Emmy with a small smile **"**It's probably nothing."

"Or…! It could be that intuition of yours at work again!"

"My intuition?" The professor let go of the edge of his hat. "Is it truly that known?"

Emmy shrugged.

"Oh, not really. I did my research on you before asking for the job, though."

Unsure whether to take that as a compliment or a deeply disturbing piece of information, the professor remained silent as he slowly walked to the threshold of the parlor. Emmy followed closely behind him.

**-oooooooo-**

"This one is locked too…" Emmy shrugged as she tried to open another door. "For such a large home, a lot of its rooms seem to be in disuse."

"Hm…" Layton stepped close to take a long look at the doorknob. "It seems that it's not closed, but rather that it's stuck. Probably the moisture made the wood thicken?"

Emmy stepped back from the door and looked at the door. Then at the other ones that were in the hallway. They were all made of exquisite dark wood. Some even had a quite simple and elegant engraving on them. Not only that, but the floor was made out of wood as well.

"That seems like a very serious problem! Why didn't they put steel doors and tile floors instead? I don't think those expand with moisture…" Emmy crossed her arms as she took her small pen and notebook to take note of…something.

"I think it would make the house colder if they had metal and tile. The wood surely must keep it warm in winter…not to mention that it probably helps keep the humidity balanced. It wouldn't be an unlikely assumption that most homes in Misthallery are made of wood. Remember Brock's home? That mark was carved unto the door... And now that I think of it, I don't believe I've ever heard about metal doors being used at homes ever before."

"Huh… I guess you're right…Oh!" Emmy excitedly scribbled some more notes. "Professor, you said that you wanted to see for something. What was it?"

The man sighed and smiled at her. "You see, Clark always wrote in his letters about how the house was always full with all sorts of photos, souvenirs and other mementos like that…but from what we've seen, there is not even a single family picture lying around."

Emmy rose her eyebrows and took a closer look at her surroundings. Now that he mentioned it… it was true, there were several nails on the walls that were now unused. However, it was easy to suppose that they had once been used to hang family pictures on the walls. She tried to imagine the hallway filled with pictures. The Triton family would be together; father, mother and son smiling sheepishly at the camera. It was quite hard to imagine, to be honest.

"Well…maybe they grew out of it and thought it to be too schmaltzy?" The lass suggested, though she seemed well aware of how strange her suggestion sounded.

"Hardly, Brenda always had a fascination for mementos. Clark, while not too attached to such things, usually humored her."

"Wait…wasn't Mrs. Triton away on some family business or other? Maybe she took them all with her…"

"Clark mentioned something about her being away for family matters." Layton furrowed his eyebrows together. "But what exactly, I wonder…"

Emmy wasn't the kind of person that let the elephant in the room go unnoticed if she had the chance. Still, it wasn't polite to jump to unfortunate conclusions. Especially when these people were being so hospitable with them but—Maybe the professor had a better understanding of the Tritons. Emmy had the thought that if she asked, the professor would easily dissipate her silly ideas and she would be able to start thinking about more important things.

"Professor, you don't think that she could have…abandoned her husband, do you?"

He didn't answer. To him, the idea was impossible. First of all, he knew how well both Brenda and Clark got along. Second of all, because if any great emergency happened where she would seriously consider that leaving would be the most sensible choice, she would have definitely taken her only child along. Thirdly—

"Professor?" Emmy asked again, breaking him out of his thoughts.

"…I don't think it was that, Emmy. Something happened, of that I am sure. But if Clark didn't tell us then I'm afraid we are in no right to intrude."

"Oh… you're right. I'm sorry professor." The assistant fiddled with her pen, suddenly feeling quite self-conscious. "If it bears no relevance to the investigation, then it's really not in our place to intrude…"

"Well if you want my personal opinion," The professor said with a kind smile "Both Brenda and Clark are very sensible people. I highly doubt that they would do anything that drastic."

Emmy's eager smile returned to her face. True, she didn't know the family, but seeing Luke so forlorn… She honestly hoped that he wasn't like that because his parents were fighting. Seeing something like that is very hard on a child. If nothing of the sort was actually going on in the Triton household then the better for the smallest member of the family.

It was reassuring to hear that the possibility was slim according to the professor, to say the least.

"So," the young lady said as she closed the cap of her pen "how about we go visit the guest rooms Luke told us about?"

"I think that would be ideal. Knowing your place of rest is very important when you**'**re visiting someplace."

"Luke said…" Emmy took a look at her notes "Right corridor from the entrance! Let's go!"

Layton couldn't quite recall the exact moment when she had made note of Luke's directions- oh well, at least she was working hard.

He walked behind the woman in yellow. His eyes wandered about to the empty hallways and the unused nails along the corridor. His relaxed expression tensed slightly at the sight. Thoughts began to stir his mind. Something had happened to the Triton family. If it weren't for that letter, he would have been none the wiser. How… would things have been if he hadn't received that letter? He didn't know. But thinking about it left him with an ill at ease sensation.

Hershel Layton was too obfuscated by his musings that he barely even noticed that a maid was stepping out of a room when they got to their destination. Upon seeing them, she curtsied. This seemed to hard for her for she was holding a mop on one hand and she couldn't quite grab her dress properly. "Good day, sir. Madame. I have prepared your quarters as requested by the Master."

"Oh!" Emmy nearly jumped at the sudden appearance of the maid nodded at her. "Thank you, Miss!"

"No need to be so formal, Madame. Call me Beth." The maid chuckled and waved her free hand. As if to dispel the awkward moment.

"Beth?" The professor cupped his chin "That's funny, Clark never mentioned having a maid. He did mention Doland, but that man has been with the family for a very long time."

"I was hired recently, you see. About a year or so ago, you see. When Evan Barde passed away and the Barde family fired all of its staff the Triton family kindly allowed me to keep my job, you see."

"Ah, yes I…see." Emmy rose her eyebrow and, as usual, took out her notebook. "So you were hired by the Triton family when Clark became the mayor?"

"Yes. No. Well, it's complicated, Madame. Last year's elections were intense. When Clark was announced the winner of the elections, I was still working for Evan Barde. I worked for the Barde family up until the reading of his will, where he officially fired the staff. That was… oh, a few days before Clark took control of Misthallery, you see."

"Fire his staff? But I don't think that's legally possible…?" Emmy mused.

"Oh, here in Misthallery we have special laws. We are a bit different than any other lovely village in this country. We've always worked on our own way and it has worked very well. If it's not broken, don't fix it, you see."

"Really? Could you further elaborate on these "special laws?" The professor asked. Emmy, upon seeing the sudden interest in his eyes, prepared herself to take detailed notes.

However, her enthusiasm was in vain.

"I'm afraid I can't be of much help." Beth answered quickly. "I am just a simple maid, you see. If you want to know, ask someone like Greppe. He was one of the candidates for Misthallery's mayorship, you see. Man from a good family and has a simply beautiful wife, you see. Rumor has it, that they are expecting. They seem like such a happy couple, you know?"

Emmy seemed to be growing annoyed at the woman's gossip. However, she still had the common courtesy to take notes. Or make semblance of doing so.

"Everybody thought that he, Greppe, was going to be the Mayor. But Mayor Triton had some very attractive proposals, you see. And he has kept his word. He's a good Mayor, Clark Triton. Shame that Misthallery is in too much trouble for anybody to notice what a fine job he does."

"Mr. Triton had attractive proposals?" Emmy asked at the maid her eyes suddenly bright with curiosity "What kind of proposals?"

"Why, he abolished that silly rent that left most of the people without lands without two pence to rub together! Some say that it was his lady that gave him that idea."

"His lady? You mean, Mrs. Triton?"

"Well, yes. You could say so-" The maid waved her hand once more. Letting out a little chuckle that was nothing short of nervous. "Oh, look at me! Chatting away like an old hen when I have a manor to clean! I heard that the young Master has finally stepped outside his room. I have to hurry and see if I can get my mop in it, you see."

"…Yes. We see." Layton nodded and smiled at the maid. "Well, I believe that we shouldn't keep you from your duties, Beth. Thank you very much for your services and the information."

The maid curtsied (or at least attempted to do so once more) and walked down the corridor. Emmy stared at her and -after she had disappeared from view- she turned back to the professor.

Before she could voice out her questions or opinions, the professor opened the door to one of the guest rooms and motioned for her to step inside. His unspoken invitation was accepted.

"Professor, are the laws of Misthallery really all that relevant to our investigation?" Emmy asked after closing the door behind her. "I really think we should just focus on the Specter business and leave them be on whatever else they do…"

"So do I, Emmy. However, sometimes a mystery has deeper roots than it lets on at first. However, we shouldn't focus on that first. If we ever need to know, we can always go ask for Mr Greppe or investigate on our own."

Emmy leaned back against the door and nodded. Her eyes wandered about the room.

The guest room seemed to be comfortable. The bed sheets were clean and white. There was a bookshelf that had all sorts of classic literature within them. On this room, the wall nails were used. But they didn't hold up any family pictures. Just paintings and photographs from the beautiful town. For some reason, it felt… nostalgic. As if she had slept in that room before for a long time. But this déjà -vu was nothing more than that. A mere trick of the mind. Or at least, that's what the guest told herself.

"We should see the other room to decide which one we will sleep in." She said, trying to distract herself from the sensation that she had. Things were already perplexing in Misthallery. No need to add this mundane confusion into the mix.

"If I recall Clark's letters correctly, all of the guests rooms are exactly the same safe for the pictures on the walls and the color of the bed sheets."

"Really?" Emmy pointed at the bookshelves "And they even bought all the exact same collection of books to put in the other room?"

The professor chuckled. For a moment his gaze seemed to be clouded with a happy memory regarding the books. "…Yes, well- they always insisted on giving their guests the best treatment possible. I wouldn't put it beyond them to consider a good book as absolutely necessary for this."

The young woman walked over to the bed and sat down on it. Soft, yet firm. If she had blonde hairs of gold, she would have felt wary of sleeping on that bed. After all, she wouldn't want to wake up under the scrutinizing look of three bears that lived in that house in the woods. She found herself chuckling at her own mental image.

"I think I'll sleep in this room, if it's no bother to you professor."

"That's all right Emmy." The professor smiled at her "I had the feeling that it suited you."

"Now, let us go gather our things from the Laytonmobile and finish settling in. After that, I believe it will be time to hit the streets. How does that sound?"

He didn't need to ask. Emmy couldn't wait to get the investigation properly started.

**-oooooooo-**

Arianna Barde didn't like being ill.

Not only because she was usually left alone without any company ("To not tire her", they would say); but because she found herself every day with less strength than the day before. She was stagnating, much like her dear hometown.

"Arianna?" she heard her sweet little brother, Tony, ask through the door. "Are you feeling strong enough to go to the dinning room?"

The red-headed girl sighed. She was too ill. But for goodness sake, she was getting tired of looking at the same four walls. Slowly, painfully, she stood up. Her breath hitched with effort. She held on the side of her bed to make herself more stable on her legs. The dizziness risked to take over her senses and make her fall. But she couldn't let herself faint. Not now.

"I'll be going downstairs, Tony. Go on ahead."

The younger brother seemed to hesitate for a moment at the door. However she soon heard his steps down the hallway. That vote of confidence was enough to motivate her into continue her struggle out of her room and into the dining room.

Arianna had never thought that walking from her own room to the dining room would be such a difficult task. First, she had to force herself out of her room. Then, she had to stagger through the hallway to the stairs. After stopping to catch her breath, she would slowly walk down the stairs to the main hall. At the very end of the main hall was the dining room. She could smell the food, which edged her to hurry up if she wanted to eat anything that was still warm. To the sick girl, the trek had lasted more than an hour. In truth, she had taken only ten minutes.

The red-haired girl wheezed as she placed her hands on the main doors that led to the dining room. With great effort, she pushed them aside and stepped inside the dining room, feeling a wave of warmth rush to her. Tony had turned on the fireplace to warm the room up for her, bless him. Arianna stood by the doors, breathing hard with her eyes shut from the exhaustion that washed her frame. She had been so exhausted that she didn't notice the woman until she spoke.

"My, my; Arianna." Her motherly voice reached her ears. "You walked all the way here on your own? I admire your courage, child- but I will not overlook your recklessness."

Arianna's eyes snapped open, but she kept her face down, taking in all the details that she could from her shoes and rug beneath them. That's right… the girl Thad almost forgotten that they were letting her stay at the manor. Technically speaking, Arianna was the hostess. She was allowing the woman to stay on her home. But given the way that she behaved towards her, it was as if she had come over to watch over Arianna and Tony. The red-head couldn't bring herself to look up at the woman that had spoken. Because she knew that the woman was right. She should have stayed upstairs but—she was certain she would lose her mind if she stayed in her room all the time.

"You did not have to strain yourself," the woman continued. "If you wanted a change of air, you just had to say so. Your brother would have gladly helped you."

The red-head moved from the doorway to the nearest seat that was facing away from the fireplace. She sat in front of the plate of food that her brother had placed, not making eye contact with either the woman or her brother. She could feel their eyes on her. Tony's eyes had_ that look_ filled with regret and pity. Arianna sighed once more. She didn't want to be a burden to Tony. She didn't want to be seen that way by her little brother. Not as someone to be pitied.

"Arianna," the woman's voice continued, firm yet kind. "You have to take better care of yourself. If not for your own sake, then at least for your brother's."

If there was something that Arianna disliked about her guest was that her advice always stung and yet- it was entirely reasonable. Tony needed her and even if by this point it felt more like the inverse, it was true that Tony had been placed under her tutelage. If her father's will would have been read a day earlier, they would have probably been placed on an orphanage and eventually been separated by the system. But since she was old enough by Misthallery law… they were left to be in the Barde manor.

"Do promise me, sweet child, to not try to do things like that on your own again." The person in front of her said. "It will only make your brother and I more worried."

Arianna finally raised her eyes from her dish to the woman with the warm eyes. Her ash brown hair was curled a bit at the bottom and she was smiling at her with that same smile that she would give to her own child. The young girl had to admit; being the recipient of such a motherly smile was nice. Even if the woman before her acted like a mother to everybody, a part of her felt happy that she was staying at her house and looked over her and her brother's well being. Even if she didn't have to. Even if she was just a guest and had technically nothing to do with the decisions made on the household.

Arianna found herself smiling back at the woman and nodded. "All right, I promise to ask for help next time."


End file.
